


What Streak of Madness Lies Inside of Me

by girlswholikegirlsruletheworld



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Identity Issues, M/M, Not as serious as the summary makes it sound, blame her, hyde is clingy and not used to independence, i just wanted a koala hyde, my friend blew this out of proportion, separation au, why does frankenstein's character tag have 'doctor'
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25324003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlswholikegirlsruletheworld/pseuds/girlswholikegirlsruletheworld
Summary: Now truly a separate being from Jekyll, Edward Hyde is free to wreak as much havoc and chaos as he would please without the careful, cautious doctor to restrict and repress him. But without Henry Jekyll, just who is Edward Hyde?
Relationships: Edward Hyde & Henry Jekyll, Edward Hyde/Dr. Henry Jekyll
Comments: 41
Kudos: 185





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this file was just named 'koala' because that's all this is about

The universe hates Henry Jekyll.

He's known that for a very long time. From the fact that he decided to take joint law and medicine in university and wound up suffering for it, to the fact that his childhood idol was currently living in his attic and very, very livid about being treated by a so-called fake doctor — never mind that as someone who actually graduated university, he was more of a doctor and scientist than she was — he's been aware for a very long time that the world in general despises him. And why he thought that being separated, at last, from the beast he'd accidentally created within himself — thanks to one of Maijabi's freak spirit experiments going wrong on him — was a good thing, he doesn't know.

Hyde, upon realising that he was free and solid and well and truly a different being from Henry Jekyll, had immediately shot out of his office and ran through the Society like a werewolf on a sugar rush. And perhaps Jekyll should've chased after him, if only to make sure that he wasn't about to burn the Society down again and most definitely not because he was worried about the bastard, but at the moment his head has been spinning and he could barely keep his eyes open so he'd elected to just stay in his office. Of course, it was definitely in the interest of not splitting his head open while trying to stagger down the stairs, and definitely not because he was scared of just what Hyde might reveal about them both if ever Jekyll was around him unguarded. He expected that he wouldn't be able to catch Hyde, anyway, what with the little fellow being jumpier than a flea, so it was only wise to stay put and let the foolish child come back to him.

Not that he was waiting for the fool. Most definitely not. Nor was he worried for him, or for what might happen to him, because Hyde was at best an irritant and at the worst, an absolute beast that Jekyll regretted ever having created or associated with himself.

Edward Hyde, meanwhile, was ecstatic. It had been horrifically painful and horribly disorienting when he'd been unceremoniously ripped from Jekyll's head and consciousness and put into his own body — though unfortunately he was just as short as he'd always been, much to his fury — but once he'd realised that they were truly separated, truly one and another, his cold, evil heart had swelled with glee. Freedom, at last! Freedom from Henry's body, from his consciousness, and freedom from the bastard's controlling manner! Freedom from his stuffy reputation and from his friendship with awful, awful Robert Lanyon! Never again would he be told that he can't go anywhere or that he can't do something because he no longer had to give a shit!

He ran madly through the society, thankfully having remembered to put on shoes before he did — definitely not because Jekyll so often yelled at him to that it had been ingrained into his head — and dear God and Satan, he'd never felt so wonderful! Never felt so alive! He ran through the halls, slid on the railings, and poked around the various rooms and laboratories in the interest of causing as much chaos as he could wreak. He spooked the spirits in Maijabi's lab, mixed up the plant food and chemicals in Bird and Archer's cabinets, and no one was around to tell him to quit it! No one was around to tell him that he couldn't mess with the kraken or cut the wires to the lighting of the Society and no one could tell him not to mess with the food that the little werepup fed to his animals—

"Take that, Jekyll!" he declared, after letting all of the wereboy's animals out of their cages and out into the Society, kneeling on top of the door and watching them run round. He'd locked the doors and windows, of course, because unfortunately some of Jekyll's — shudder — sensibilities had stayed with him, but for now he would have fun watching everyone shit themselves from Jasper's strange collection of pets. He flipped his hair, like the glamorous demon he was, and grinned to his ears. "You won’t ever doubt my danger and power now!"

Silence. He stood on the doors, eye twitching, waiting for a response from his prude of a creator, only to be met with the sort of awkward, lonely silence that he hated even more than Lanyon's stupid piggish laugh.

Oh. Right. Right, the reason he was on a right rampage and had yet to have his ear talked off was because the good doctor was no longer stuck with him. And all for the better, right? Without Henry's stupid sense of self-preservation, Hyde could go mad without anyone telling him to hold back! He could drink all he wanted, go wherever he wanted, hell, shag anyone who was down for it without worrying about pissing off the blasted repressed fool that was Henry Jekyll!

But all the same, he would be alone. He would not know what to be, who to be, how to act without Jekyll as his reference. He was no one, no one but a thrill-chaser and a beast ruled by the search for adrenaline that now, he would be forced to continue alone. Senselessly, uselessly chasing the thrill and pleasure of a life that he could not share with anyone. Not in the same way. There would be no one to make sure he actually got home after he drank himself stupid. No one to share in the sick pleasure he got after winning — or even losing — one of his bar fights or evening brawls. No one to drink in his glee and ecstasy after a good fuck or a great night of debauchery on the town. And no one to talk to whenever he wanted, no one who he could depend on, and no one who understood him and knew him inside out. Not the way Jekyll did. Never the way Jekyll did.

He felt cold. Not the kind of cold that accompanied rushing recklessly through the streets of London or hopping about on the rooftops, but the kind of cold that came with loneliness and fear, settling deep into his bones and making him shudder the more he thought about it.

He screamed. And for a while, the animals stopped and stared at the strange blond goblin sitting on the door and screaming to himself, but he didn't care. He leapt off the door and tore through the society, crashing into animals and people and walls in his rush, and when he finally found Jekyll's office he slammed the door open, knocking over the mirror he used to spend most of his time in and shattering the glass into a million pieces.

Jekyll startled when the door to his office was wrenched open and when the mirror next to it toppled over and smashed against the wooden floor. He was only even more startled when the very personification of his every shameful, reckless, disgusting impulse stood in the doorway, looking deranged and — and quite pitiful. He looked as if he was on the verge of tears, his green eyes wide and his mouth twisted into a pathetic frown, but before Jekyll could approach him and process the look of utter despair on the gremlin's face, he found himself with an armful of said despairing gremlin. "Henry!" the aforementioned gremlin wailed, and Jekyll wondered if being separated from him had entirely detached Hyde's grip on any semblance of sanity.

"Hello, Hyde," he said, carefully. Good God, Hyde was cold. "What are you doing here? I would have thought you'd be off causing trouble and ruining my life, now that I can't control anything you do."

"But you can't hear or see everything I do either!" Hyde screamed, acting too much like a child or a clingy lover for Jekyll's comfort. He wriggled in Jekyll's arms, like Griffin's cat tended to do, and in a matter of seconds he'd attached himself to Jekyll's back and wrapped his limbs around Jekyll's torso like some marsupial or cephalopod. And if someone noticed that Jekyll was prone to comparing Hyde to animals, he would only claim that Hyde indeed was an animal and that the comparisons were well and truly justified.

It was quiet for a while, though still very tense, and it was broken by Hyde breaking into another loud and wailing sob. "Henry!" he screamed, dragging out the final syllable of Jekyll's name, and squeezed the doctor with his limbs even more. "I can't hear your shitty self-sacrificing monologues anymore, help! I can't hear your thoughts! Why can't I hear your thoughts?!"

"Because we are different people now, Hyde," said Jekyll, and thankfully Hyde wasn't so heavy that lifting him would break Jekyll's back. He found he could still walk quite easily, even if Hyde's wriggling was making that difficult.

"But I don’t want to be!" Hyde screamed, but because he screamed so often in Jekyll's head, Jekyll barely reacted to his antics. "Jekyll, I'm nothing without you! I'm no one without you!"

"So you decide that the logical course of action is to stick to me like an octopus?" Jekyll asked, and Hyde shrugged. Hey, Jekyll was supposed to be the smart one. Hyde was created literally to be the stupid and reckless bastard that Jekyll hated being. "What, are you trying to find some way to crawl inside me and become one with me again?"

"Maybe," Hyde said, and again. Stupid and reckless. It was his thing. "But I sure as fuck am not letting go."

"Not even when I have to leave my office and face the lodgers?"

"They can deal with it," Hyde grumbled. His face was buried into the back of Jekyll's neck, because he was too short to peek over Jekyll's head. "Besides, it's not like you leave your office much, anyway."

"You're making it sound like I don't have a life."

"Because you don't."

And Jekyll didn't have a response to that, because for once, Hyde wasn't lying. But all the same, he had to go check up on the most bitchy patient he'd ever had in the decade since he'd gotten his medical license, the beautiful — gag — Miss Victoria Frankenstein, and he also had to try and convince the other lodgers to support the exhibition and he also had to take Jasper to the tailor so that he didn't die via tight suits, so he couldn't camp out in his office no matter how much he wanted to. "Fine, I may not have a life, but I do have things to do. Could you please hop off?"

"You have nothing to do that requires you sitting down, so, no, I won't," Hyde said. "Besides, I'm not letting you go. That's that."

"Is there no convincing you?"  


"Nope. Now fuck off and dote on the ungrateful bastards, I'm gonna sleep." Then, after a pause. "Oh, and you might want to watch your way outside if you don't want to be mauled by the werepuppy's pets."

"—what." Jekyll froze, but he couldn't exactly glare at Hyde when he was attached to Jekyll's back. "Hyde. What on earth did you do."

"…nothing…"

"HYDE!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jekyll starts getting used to having a koala friend and some rumours are confirmed. freckles are also threatened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i blame danise for everything in this chapter

Hyde kept to his promise.

Jekyll wasn't sure if he was impressed or irritated that the one time Hyde had actually kept his word was about sticking to him like glue and not letting go until it was absolutely necessary. It wasn't so bad when he was only in his office and Hyde was either hanging off his shoulders or sitting on his lap, mumbling a constant stream of the most strange and mundane thoughts — "So if a werewolf bit a wolf, would he become a were-were or a wolf-wolf? Oooh, we should get Jasper to bite a wolf." "If the Pope dies, does he get promoted or fired?" — or when they were asleep and Hyde was curled into his side, for once very soft and delicate and gentle. And he rather liked the company, at least when Hyde was nuzzling into his neck or sniffing his hair and not tormenting him with memories of his days studying anatomy and dissecting corpses back in university, even if Hyde's cold toes still made him startle ever single time.

Truthfully, he was getting used to the smaller man constantly hanging around him. He was, surprisingly, getting used to waking up with an armful of the gremlin, head laying heavy on his chest and his limbs splayed all over the bed. He was getting used to Hyde opting to sit on his lap while they had breakfast, even if Hyde had claimed that he was just too lazy to get a chair for himself. And he was used, even, to Hyde wrapping his arms around Jekyll's shoulders and licking the back of Jekyll's neck like a dog while they worked in the office, because yes, it was odd, but it was still comforting to know that he wasn't alone. He never was, not really, but he'd gotten so used to Hyde's presence that he wasn't sure what he might do if he was no longer there.

But it was rather inconvenient for the damned times that Jekyll actually had to socialise with other human beings. He was well aware of the rumours floating around the Society than he and Hyde were sleeping together, fuelled by none other that Hyde's eager encouragement, and he was sure that having Hyde hanging off of him like he was life support wasn't going to help relieve them, and he was also quite sure that he was going to disregard Hyde pointing out that with separate bodies, the two of them would be able to truly sleep together at last. He had tried begging for his own freedom from the beast before, but that had ended in Hyde breaking into a fit of sobs and seeking out Rachel, who came upon Jekyll with a rolling pin and the ferocity of a storm, threatening to give him a great concussion if he didn't apologise to Hyde, right this second, please.

So, he was stuck with the blond goblin for the meantime. However, just because he knew that he couldn't make Hyde hop off, didn’t mean that he knew exactly how to explain to the Lodgers just why he'd so suddenly acquired a very blond and very clingy koala.

And that was why they were currently staring at him and the glorified puppy he was carrying on his back.

Lavender was the first to find her tongue, and Jekyll wanted nothing more than to be the one who was hiding his face from the Lodgers. "Did we miss something?" she asked, staring at them. "I mean, I heard you two were fucking but I didn't think you were actually dating. Hyde doesn't seem the type."

"I am so the type to be dating," Hyde grumbled, not that anyone but Jekyll could really understand the garbled mess of mumbling that he made. He peeked over Jekyll's shoulder and gave Lavender a wide smile. "Hi."

She blinked. "Hello, Mr. Hyde," she said, as Jekyll sat down next to her and Hyde crawled into Jekyll's lap.

Archer blinked at them, too, as everyone seemed to be doing, and Jekyll groaned and hid his face in Hyde's messy hair. He hated being stared at; why was that such a large part of his job, again? Oh, right, because he had the misfortune of actually being a decent human being, Hyde's influence aside. "Huh, is it just me or is this the first time you two have even been in the same room?"

Maijabi either blinked or winked, Jekyll couldn't tell. Jasper, the cute little wolf, was looking back and forth between them and the lodgers, and Rachel was lurking around the corner with her rolling pin, probably staring at Jasper. "Oh, yeah, this might be the first time I've ever seen you two together."

And then Hyde was suddenly smirking, which was never a good thing, but before Jekyll could grab him and shut him up, he was talking in his stupid I'm-a-glorified-five-year-old voice, in a volume far too high for a voice so high pitched. "Well, Dr. J was worried that word about us would get out to his stupid high society friends, but I've finally convinced him that you guys are trustworthy!"  


Pennebrygg clapped loudly and Jekyll flinched at the volume. Good Gods, why did he surround himself with these people again? Was this how Robert felt when he once mistakenly asked Bryson about his life story and had to endure a twelve hour long story told at 212 decibels? "Ha! We knew you were sleepin' together! How long?"

Jekyll's face turned scarlet, and he screamed, "We are most definitely not!—"

"Hush, hush," Mrs. C said in a tone that was supposedly soothing, but she was smirking and thus Jekyll did not feel soothed at all. "There's no need to hide anymore, Dr. Jekyll, we'll keep your secret."

"Secret, yeah right," Griffin huffed. "Like we didn’t all know."

Jasper, because he was sweet and pure, blinked twice. "I didn't know."

"And now you do!" Mosley declared, and Jekyll really, really wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. If the Earth really was hollow, which he very much doubted, could it please swallow him now. "But I gotta say, Dr. J, your efforts at hidin' were a li'l extreme. Never together, but Hyde's constantly sneaking into your rooms at midnight? What else could it be?"

Jekyll chuckled nervously, and so did Hyde, which was a little strange but at least it was appropriate. "Yeah, yeah, funny, wasn't it," he said, looking away, mostly from Ito and Rachel who were staring very, very sharply at him and Hyde. Hyde, on his side, didn't seem to be annoyed or embarrassed at all, because he's just snuggling closer into Jekyll despite the eyes of the whole Society boring holes into them. Which the Society does notice.

"I didn’t think Mr. Hyde was the cuddly kind," Jasper said, and Jekyll groaned, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the earth or perhaps be thrown about two billion miles into space.

"He usually isn't. Please," he begged, "please ignore him, I beg of you, proceed about your business as usual, pretend he's not clinging to me like a fool."

"Aww, are you ashamed of me, Jekyll?" Hyde giggled, murmuring into Jekyll's neck, and Jekyll refused to unpack the knowledge that he could only understand Hyde because he knew Hyde's murmurings and mumblings so well he could predict what Hyde might say in any given situation.

"Hyde, please, this is not normal," Jekyll pleaded, refusing to acknowledge that he was probably and most definitely blushing.

"It's about to be starting now," said Hyde, giggling again and snuggling even closer to the point where Jekyll most definitely was not going to be able to get up.

Jekyll thought that was the worst of it. But of course, the universe had even worse things in mind, because just as he gave up and lay back and allowed Hyde to sit on him and climb all over him, who would walk in but his dearest friend and colleague, Dr. Robert Lanyon? And Jekyll now very sincerely wished Hyde would choke him with his cravat because this was one conversation he absolutely did not want to have.

Hyde, however, only grinned like the creepy leper he was and curled into Jekyll's chest. "Hello, Doctor Lanyon. I heard you were looking for me?" he asked, in the most disgustingly sweet, girlish voice Jekyll had ever heard.

Lanyon's eyes narrowed, and Jekyll swallowed. He had absolutely no idea how to explain this mess to Robert, especially since Robert had some unfounded, sometimes unreasonable hatred of Hyde, and by extension that meant he hated some part of Henry. "Hello, Henry," said his long time friend, slowly, staring at Hyde like he would stare at the face of Satan. Full of derision and disgust, his lip curling in hatred. Though, no doubt, he saw how Hyde was very adamantly sticking to Jekyll and snuggling into his neck. "Have you perhaps acquired a koala overnight?"

And then, when Hyde bared his teeth and hissed at Lanyon, who swallowed, "A rather violent one at that."

Jekyll sighed. "He's — he means no harm, Robert, truly. Just starved for attention, it would seem."

"Too true, Henry!" Hyde declared, and Jekyll was certain he was only using his first name to get a rise out of Lanyon. "I'm a right whore for your attention, aren't I?"

Jekyll chuckled. "You said it, I didn't." And Hyde giggled again and placed a very sloppy kiss on Jekyll's cheeks.

"Right," said Lanyon, looking very uncomfortable, not that Jekyll could blame him. He tried to inch closer to them both, but he didn't get very far before Hyde gave him yet another lecherous grin.

"Touch my Henry and I will bite off your freckles, _Robert_ , dear," he said, and Lanyon gave a tight nod and backed out of the room. Jekyll groaned.

"Stop scaring away my friends, Hyde," Jekyll admonished, but Hyde only shrugged and went back to cuddling.

"Hey, not my fault he's a pussy." And then, after a pause, "Also, friends? Plural? Since when do you have multiple friends?"

"Oh, shut up, the mere fact that I tolerate you should imply that I hang around the strangest of men."

  
"You're not entirely wrong there."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyde has koala aspirations and an identity crisis, frankenstein has a death wish, and jekyll wants to disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know. i really don't know.

Another day, another opportunity to give Henry Jekyll the cuddles and physical affection he'd missed out on for so long.

Hyde was not an idiot, contrary to the beliefs of the Lodgers and to the awful prick that was Robert Lanyon. He did, after all, spend the better part of his life as part of Henry Jekyll, existing in his subconscious and absorbing every bit of Jekyll's genius and studies, and unfortunately, he also spent that time absorbing Jekyll's boring social graces and annoyingly good ability to read people.

Not that he needed any of that to know that Jekyll was a repressed little fuck with too many responsibilities and too many ambitions who sometimes just wanted to be kissed and cuddled and spoiled. Anyone with even one eye could tell that there was something off about Jekyll, most days, what with those stupid sparkles and Jekyll's dead stare whenever he was smiling that beautiful, charming smile. Most people ignored it, because Jekyll was annoyingly charismatic, and annoyingly very good at throwing off suspicion about himself by just being way too fucking nice and cute and charming to whoever he was talking to, but well, most people hadn't spent any time in Jekyll's brain.

Most people had also not encountered the very strange spectre of Robert Lanyon that was in that brain, all stuffy and prim and proper and aristocratic and also all stupid and unrealistic, but Hyde had. Prior to their meeting, he hadn't thought he could hate Lanyon any more than he already did, with his stupid nose and his stupid freckles and his stupid fragile sensibilities, but oh _god_ did that spectre need a good punch in the face and a nice stab in the throat. He didn't even know if that guy was still in there, just lurking in Jekyll's head and telling him to just repress his every urge and his every impulse and to forsake everything that made him happy for the sake of being respectable and telling him that he couldn't be both a good man and a good scientist—

"AAAARGH!" Hyde screamed, tossing over in the pile of invisible rats that were sitting on him. He hadn't sought them out; they'd found him and sat on him, and so he'd been waiting for Griffin to come and collect the rats. "Bitch!"

Unfortunately, and also fortunately, there was no one around to ask just who Hyde was calling a bitch, which was a good thing because Hyde had an attention span best described as ADHD2.

Anyway. Back to Jekyll and his need for cuddles.

Hyde knew better than anyone that Jekyll didn’t really have the best life. Heck, most of Jekyll's formative memories included him being told off and shamed for wanting to express himself, and now, most of Jekyll's day revolved around trying to make sure people who hated him stayed alive and also not letting those people see the ugly, primitive parts of him that Hyde embodied. Which was bullshit, by the way, because the Lodgers loved Hyde and thus would love it if Jekyll was as free as Hyde, but well, there was also Lanyon and all the stupid stuffy people of the London elites, so Jekyll was trapped, basically.

Lean too much towards aristocracy and the Lodgers and Frankenstein would harp on about him being an industrialist slut who was trying to reform them and strip away their madness — because of course, they didn't know that someone had done it to him, first. Lean too much towards mad science and not only would the security of the Society drop, Lanyon would probably balk to think that his best friend wasn't actually his perfectly painted toy gentleman with absolutely no emotions and no need for comfort.

The world that Jekyll lived in didn't allow Jekyll to be both mad and kind; happy and respected, and it was un-fuckin-fair. And now with Hyde separate from him, Jekyll's one escape, Jekyll's one way to indulge in all the bullshit that his reputation had decided he couldn't ever have fun with, was taken away from him.

Which was probably why Jekyll was currently moping. Not that anyone but Hyde would notice, because Jekyll was still wearing that infuriatingly cute smile and sparkling all over the place, but he definitely was moping. He'd been tired all day, and he was wearing a frankly obscene amount of make-up, probably to cover up the horrendously large bags around his eyes, and he was procrastinating going to check up on Frankenstein.

So, without another word, Hyde ditched most of the invisible rats — because some decided to hide in his hat and coat — and went to go climb on Jekyll, if only to make sure he wasn't driving himself nuts with his anxiety over Frankenstein.

"She won't kill me, will she?" Jekyll immediately asked when Hyde poked his head into the office, where Jekyll was of course pacing and working himself into a panic, as was the way of the good doctor.

"She can barely get up without vomiting blood," Hyde said, not bothering to ask why the fuck Jekyll was afraid of the dying bitch. "Besides, if she tries to kill you, I'll kill her first. Sound good?"

Jekyll sighed, but he welcomed it when Hyde leapt at him from the side. "If I consented to that and I was heard, I could lose my medical license, you know."

"No, you wouldn't," Hyde said, nuzzling into Jekyll's neck again, just because it was the warmest part of him that didn't involve Jekyll having to take off his clothes. And no, Hyde was not part vampire, _Archer_ , fuck off. "It would be an act of self-defense."

"Only if we were the same person, and I will remind you, I have yet to find a way to make that happen," said Jekyll, and Hyde pouted.

"Aww, are you trying to get rid of me, Jekyll?" he whined, and Jekyll gave him a confused look. Hyde also refused to admit that he liked it when Jekyll raised his eyebrow at him and looked at him like he was thinking, _'You poor, clueless, mortal soul.'_

"Aren't you the one who was complaining about being separated from me?" Jekyll reminded him, as Hyde linked their arms and curled into his side. "I do recall you telling me that your identity is meaningless without me."

"Well, it is!" Hyde declared. "I mean, you're still Henry Jekyll with or without me — the practically perfect doctor who has a very, very hidden crush on his best friend and a serious repression issue. But me? Without you? What the heck am I? Who am I? How am I different from any common criminal who spends his days chasing thrills and adrenaline? What do I do with my life without you?"

Jekyll chuckled. "You live, Hyde. And you are plenty of things, even without my influence." And then he chuckled in that annoying, self-deprecating way that Hyde hated. "And especially without my limitation and shame to censor you."

"Oh, really," Hyde grumbled, looking away. "Really. And what the fuck am I without you? A glorified sex addict?"

"NO — Hyde, come now, surely you don't think of yourself like that!"

Hyde snorted, snuggling closer into Jekyll and making them sway in imbalance. "Of course I do, because I promise, you hate yourself as much as I hate myself. Because I'm still you, and you hate yourself. Part of the deal when it comes to alteregos, you know."

"I really don't, Hyde," Jekyll muttered, petting the gremlin on the head, and wondering just why he'd never known about Hyde's own problems. Probably because he never really showed that he had problems, but then again, isn’t that what Jekyll does, too? Because unfortunately, they were both far too good at hiding their problems and also far too good at catastrophising said problems. "And I really do hope you don't really think that way of yourself."

"Well, unfortunately I do, and honestly I don't see the point of lying to you about it," Hyde said, and he giggled as he climbed up onto Jekyll's back again. "Well? I thought you had a bitch to check up on so that she doesn't die? I'll protect you from her clutches, I promise."

Jekyll sighed as he gathered up his chemistry kit. "Hyde, you can't call Frankenstein that," he said, and Hyde snorted.

"Oh, please, it's what you think of her as. I'm just telling the truth that you can't bear to," said Hyde, giggling, and Jekyll sighed again. "But really, Henry, I don't get why you don't just tell her about me. Or just let me treat her, considering that technically, I also have a medical degree, just so you don't have to face her."

"Hyde, I can't be seen abandoning a patient. And besides, you may technically have a medical degree, but you don't have a medical license."

"Like she cares about licenses and degrees," Hyde grumbled. "She didn't even finish university. Oh! Can I remind her of that, please? Can I remind her that you're a superior scientist because she didn't even finish university and you have three doctorates?"

Jekyll chuckled. "No, Hyde, you can't antagonise her. Besides, two of my doctorates are in Law, and I don't think she'd care about that in particular." And then, as they came up to the door of the attic where Frankenstein was staying, he sighed and tried to steel himself for the argument that was sure to ensue. And although he would never say it, having Hyde so protectively clinging to him was helping, in some way, because he knew that Hyde would be willing to defend him.

So, before he could lose his nerve, he pushed open the door and faced his dying former idol.

She was sat in bed, arms crossed, and when he entered the room, her neck snapped up and she glared at him. That didn't last long, though, and her expression was replaced by confusion, probably from the blond gremlin Jekyll was suddenly carrying on his back. And said gremlin, of course, could not resist the urge to cause chaos, so when Frankenstein looked up and stared at him, he stared back. "Hey, motherfucker," he said, and Jekyll groaned.

"Hyde, please shut up," pleaded Jekyll as he fussed about, trying to make the potion that would hopefully clear up the fucking lizard guts Frankenstein had swallowed. He did not need another violent altercation with Frankenstein, especially not one that might lead to Hyde trying to rip off his childhood idol's head.

"Oh, no, _Dr._ Jekyll," his most difficult patient drawled, grinning, saying his title as if it was a death sentence, "I don't mind a little bit of authenticity. Really, I'm surprised someone like Edward Hyde bothers with company like you."

Jekyll wanted to say, ' _What, over his usual audience of prostitutes and drunkards?''_ but he held his tongue. Hyde, apparently, could tell what he was thinking because he snickered into Jekyll's neck.

"What other company would Edward Hyde have?" Jekyll asked, if only to be polite.

"The company of other mad scientists, of course! He seems rightfully wild and insane! And according to your Lodgers, also a talented neoalchemist, probably as skilled as you claim to be, yes? Why isn't he treating me, rather than a fake scientist with intentions to purify and reduce mad science to nothing more than a stage show, with only the most _dull and academic_ research to show for his name?" she demanded, and Hyde giggled.

"Because I don't have a medical license, and also because I couldn't give less of a fuck if you died," said Hyde, before Jekyll could stop him. He leapt off Jekyll's back and hopped onto the Creature's back, this time, and no, he definitely did not see the exasperated look Jekyll was giving him, nope, not a chance. "Honestly, I'd probably give you something from Jekyll's poison cupboard just to see if you can figure out what's happening before you die, but unfortunately that's not something the great Dr. Jekyll would do. Oh well. Not all of us can be as good as that fucker is, however boring you think his research is."

"Hyde, please," Jekyll said, but Hyde only winked at him.

"Hey, some things have to be sacrificed in the name of madness!" Hyde declared, throwing out his hands and nearly punching the Creature in the face. "Human empathy, for instance. Not that you would have any problems with that, right, Miss Frankenstein? After all, you did let Justine and William and Elizabeth Frankenstein die because you were afraid of taking responsibility for your mad science. I'm sure you understand."

"Hyde!" Jekyll hissed, and Hyde blinked. "What?"

"Be couth, please!"

Hyde pretended to think. "Nah, that's your job, I'm afraid. And really, Miss Frankenstein, we adore you! You've already lost everything and yet you still haven't managed to make peace with your scientific failures! Not even this close to death can you admit your own incompetence!"

"I have not committed a single scientific failure! I am a doctor and an expert galvanist, you insolent creature!" Frankenstein screamed indignantly. "Who are you to doubt my genius— I brought a dead man to life!"

" _And_ you ditched him because he had the wrong eye colour!" Hyde screamed back, albeit in a much happier tone. " _And_ you left him alone to wander in the mountains _and_ went back on your promise to give him a companion _and_ didn't give a fuck when he was killing your family! Fucking hell, it’s a miracle he still sticks by you, because honestly, what use were you to him? At least Jekyll helps me deal with the aftermath of whatever chaos I cause, and at least he's an actual doctor. Because, you know. Three doctorates and all that. But obviously that means nothing; obviously it says nothing about him actually being the better scientist."

"You're taking the side of this — this _fake_?!" Frankenstein shrieked. "He is trying to turn mad science pure and respectable! Taking all these wonderful mad scientists and trying to convert them into — into bourgeoisie! This Society is a disgrace to mad science, and especially your little pet doctor!"

Hyde chortled, obviously having too way much fun, and Jekyll wondered if he'd miss the little goblin should he try to strangle him and drop him out a window. "Oh, yes, God forbid Jekyll try to prevent these 'wonderful mad scientists' from starving to death! How abominable! And did you see the way he rescued them from the streets and from jail, just to give them a place to safely pursue their scientific interests! How horrible! He must be hunted, no, humiliated for such horrendous actions! It makes me faint to think that!"

"Mad science is not safe, you beast! I will have this building torn down!" Frankenstein shrieked again, looking like she might try to tear Hyde up with her bare hands. Jekyll, for his part, might've sided with her on that, but he also didn't want to lose his silly little alter-ego, so he really had to intervene before someone ended up dead.

"Miss Frankenstein—" he started, and she shrieked at him again.

"That is _Dr._ Frankenstein to you, you phony scientist—!"

"No, it's not!" Hyde sang, giggling, and Jekyll rushed over to pick Hyde up before he somersaulted out of the window.

"Both of you, shut the fuck up!" Jekyll shouted, and both blondes in the room froze. Frankenstein out of shock, probably because of the oh so good and respectable doctor cursing, and Hyde out of awe, because after he recovered from his surprise he immediately ran up to Jekyll and clung on to his arm. "Now, Miss Frankenstein, please take your medicine without another complaint, and if I found that you're incredibly eager to die, I will have Hyde throw you out the window himself. And as for you, Hyde—"

The little gremlin, blessedly, had quieted down and was snuggling into Jekyll's arm. "Yes?" he asked, giggling, and Jekyll sighed.

"You, you little shit, are in a lot of trouble," Jekyll declared as he dragged Hyde out of the room, with Hyde flailing and laughing as he was dragged along out of the attic, along the hallways and into the office. They encountered Lavender and Doddle in the halls who stared at them both in confusion, especially when Hyde waved and grinned, seemingly not caring that he banged his head against a railing on their way, not that Jekyll cared.

"Oh, come on, Jekyll, you have to admit that that was awesome," Hyde giggled when they got back to the office, and after he'd climbed back onto Jekyll. "Her face! It was glorious! And you actually agreed to let me kill her! And you cursed in front of her! Oh, it was amazing!"

Jekyll groaned. "What do you mean? It was horrible, Hyde!"

"No it wasn't! Who knew you had a spine! Well, I did, but obviously I'm your spine, so that doesn't really count."

Jekyll chuckled. "You're going to break my spine, clinging to me like that," he said to Hyde, who yet again had climbed onto his back and was licking at the back of his neck. "What the hell are you doing, anyway?"

Hyde shrugged. "Cuddling. And don't even bother lying; we both know that your touch-starved ass likes it."

"I never said I didn't like it, but it still doesn't make sense."

"Look," said Hyde, cuddling even closer, "I'm trying to save myself from an identity crisis, and thus I can be whatever I say I can be. And if I want to be a koala, I will be a koala. Now be a good alterego and let me achieve my cuddly dreams."

Jekyll sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get much work done with Hyde hanging off of him, so instead he went to get some wine and distract himself from the bullshit Frankenstein had just been spouting. "I have nothing against this, but exactly how long do you intend to be a koala? I do have work to do."

"I will be a koala for the rest of my life, you have to live with this now," said Hyde, "you are too comfortable to leave. I don’t give a shit about your work, especially if it's going to go into funding those ungrateful motherfuckers. Let them burn and let them die!"

"Hyde, no—"

"Hyde, YES—!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyde is a little shit and jekyll is secretly needy.

Never let it be said that Hyde was not a little shit.

True to his words, Hyde did achieve his cuddly dreams. There was very rarely an hour in the day where he wasn't clinging to Jekyll, and frequently he carried with him a pocket watch with which to count exactly eight hours of cuddles, which according to him was the minimum amount of time he would be stuck to Jekyll like a cephalopod. Jekyll had tried to negotiate that, also asking if they could just cuddle in their sleep, and that conversation went as follows:

"Hyde, you can cling to me when we're asleep as much as you want, please just drop that god-awful timer!"

A dramatic gasp on Hyde's part, and then, "Wait, you _sleep_? Really? How come I've never seen it?"

So yeah, Hyde didn't accept the negotiation, though of course he still crawled all over Jekyll whenever the stupid, self-destructing doctor did sleep. And Jekyll did eventually get used to it, enough that he stopped asking whenever Hyde was stuck to him whenever it was possible — even when they were in the bath, sometimes — but of course, he still blushed every time Hyde hugged him particularly sweetly. He stopped fighting it, even initiating some of their hugs whenever he was having a particularly bad day, and even allowing Hyde to bitch and cry about his little identity crisis in his arms whenever it was convenient.

Heck, he was even smiling around Hyde! Smiling! And looking at him the way he used to look at _Lanyon_ , of all people, as if Hyde could ever be compared to that prissy sack of shit!

Which was why Hyde had a little plan. Yeah, it was probably a shit idea, but making good decisions was Jekyll's job, not his.

So one day, months after he'd been separated from Jekyll and started his cuddle crusade, he dropped the pocket watch out the window of the office and desperately fought to keep his hands to himself whenever Jekyll was around. He wanted to see what Jekyll would do if he stopped his cuddle crusade, mostly because he wanted to see if Jekyll actually liked them as much as he did.

And that was why he thoroughly enjoyed the shocked look on Jekyll's face when, that morning, he only gave Jekyll a short hug once he entered the office. Jekyll floundered, for a while, and sat still on his chair, as if expecting Hyde to crawl onto his lap and make his work harder, like he usually did, but Hyde only giggled and waved. "Good morning, _Dr_. Jekyll," he said, a title he had liked to employ since Frankenstein had fucked back off to the Swiss Alps after being treated and having to face the fact that Jekyll was more of a doctor and a scientist than she could hope to be.

Jekyll's jaw hung open. What was up with Hyde? Was he sick? Was he warm? No, it was the middle of December, and Hyde was bundled up enough that he actually looked like he had curves. Shouldn't it be the time most suitable for Hyde to get his little cuddle fix? "Hello," he said, slowly, and Hyde giggled again.

Though still a little confused, Jekyll had hope that Hyde's suddenly socially distant antics had a reason, and wouldn't be permanent. Yeah, he complained a lot when Hyde was clinging on to him, and occasionally — usually whenever Lanyon was over, because Lanyon really didn't like Hyde — it was incredibly inconvenient and embarrassing, but much as it pained him to admit it, he really liked it. It was nice having someone who paid so much attention to him and who showered him in as much affection, and he didn't want that to be taken away.

Not that he was telling Hyde that. No. It would be beyond humiliating, and he was having a hard enough time admitting to himself that he actually enjoyed Hyde's company rather than just tolerating it. He didn't want to have to tell Hyde, too.

That didn't mean he wasn't wishing for it, though. Even if he didn’t know he was pining for some physical touch, Hyde could tell; he could tell in the doctor's longing glances towards him and the kicked puppy look that Jekyll made whenever Hyde shrugged off his not-so-subtle invitations for a hug. And he absolutely loved it, absolutely loved that his absence was actually doing something to Jekyll. And maybe that was shitty of him, but he was shitty by nature, so it didn't really matter. Much.

Jekyll cracked in about a few hours, which definitely was soon enough. They were both getting ready for bed, and while Jekyll whipped out the round glasses that he really hated wearing in public and settled into the sheets with Treasure Island, Hyde hopped around the room trying to tug on his shirt and pants at the same time. And then, just as Hyde managed to get his legs on the wrong side of the pants and trip over the shoes he'd left on the floor, Jekyll sighed and asked his question.

"Hyde," he said, in that tone that he used whenever he was ashamed of whatever it was he was going to say next, even when usually it was something perfectly innocuous. "I — I have to ask, did I — did I do something wrong? To you?"

Hyde hopped onto the bed and giggled into a pillow. His socks were mismatched, one deep maroon and one viridian green, and he wiggled his toes. "Whatever do you mean, Henry?" he asked, trying to hide his happiness as he bundled himself in the sheets.

"I — well — it's—" Jekyll cut himself off and went silent. What the hell was he supposed to say? He bit his lip and frowned, unaware of Hyde's mounting glee, and eventually he sighed and dropped the book. He sighed and decided to bite the bullet. "Come — come here."

Hyde giggled again and curled into Jekyll's side. "Feeling cuddly today, are we?" he asked, probably blushing, but also not willing to admit that.

"A little," Jekyll admitted, running his hands through the mess of yellow wires that Hyde called his hair. "You know me, I'm not — not too close with many people. I've got Rachel and Robert, but well, they don't really like each other, and neither of them really, truly know me. You're the only one who does."

Hyde blushed even darker, and he picked up the book Jekyll had dropped. It'd been written by some Stevenson guy who once was one of Jekyll's childhood friends, but they'd grown distant when the guy ditched their hometown in Scotland to travel the world. Frankly, he didn't care too much for the guy's poems, but the novel was pretty good. "Am I special to you, then?" he asked, and Jekyll gave him an annoyingly sincere and easy smile.

"Of course, Hyde," Jekyll whispered. "Of course."

There was silence for a while, in which Hyde grew hopeful that Jekyll would confess his undying love for him, or maybe even just admit that he wanted to fuck, because Hyde would've been glad for that, but unfortunately Jekyll was absolutely clueless about romance despite being a hopeless romantic.

So, it was time to add fuel to the flame. He waited a few minutes, because he needed his cuddle fix, too, and then after that he rolled over and gave Jekyll back the book, rolling back away from his cute ass creator. And he almost caved when Jekyll pouted and when those beautiful eyes of his looked absolutely devastated at Hyde's distance, but he had to stay steadfast. He raised an eyebrow at Jekyll. "What's wrong, Jekyll?"

"Well, I — I thought we would — you know, the whole night — to — to keep warm and — I just thought—" Jekyll muttered, stumbling all over his words, and Hyde chuckled as he huddles into the bed.

"What, stay with you all night?" Hyde asked, and Jekyll made a pathetic nod. "Really? Why? It's not really a thing that friends would normally do, you know."

Jekyll floundered, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish. What the — but it was what he and Hyde usually did! Often on Hyde's insistence, no less! What was that supposed to mean! What did he do wrong? And it didn't seem like Hyde was at all affected by it, which likely meant he didn't really care as much for their cuddle time as Jekyll did, or perhaps that he'd simply lost interest in Jekyll. Not that — not that Jekyll was all that surprised, truthfully — most everyone lost their interest in him, sooner or later. He'd just — he'd just hoped it wouldn't happen with Hyde.

He sank into the sheets, feeling utterly miserable, not that he let it show on his face. He flashed a bright smile at Hyde, and Hyde smiled eagerly back. "Of course," he did, trying his absolute best to come off nonchalant and careless, because it would require his best to fool someone who'd literally been inside his head. "Friends, yes, of course. And of course I do have other friends, and so do you, so if you've lost interest in your so-called cuddly dreams, I understand. I understand perfectly well."

Hyde stared at him, and Jekyll wondered for a moment if he was seeing through his little visage, but eventually Hyde giggled and cuddled back into his pillow, which he'd sewed button eyes on the week prior. "Yes, of course! I have many other friends, too, you know. Friends I've gotten very, _very_ intimate with," he said, winking at Jekyll, and Jekyll blushed. "We'll both be fine, yes?"

"Of — of course, Hyde," Jekyll said, and he settled back into bed and held the book back up to his face, while Hyde picked up his own favourite book, which had a brothel's poster taped onto it for a cover. Jekyll knew was a cute sci-fi romance novel, but no one else did. "Good night, Hyde."

"Good night, Henry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jekyll is angsty, hyde has relationship issues, and jasper is adorable.

Jekyll woke up the next morning with Hyde's limbs splayed out all over him, and with a snoring Hyde's head resting soundly on his chest. And ordinarily, if he was in a good mood or if he was actually looking forward to the day that was to follow — a sadly uncommon thing, these days, since the Lodgers believed that he'd driven away Frankenstein on purpose and had threatened them into holding the exhibition, never mind that it was _Hyde_ who made the threats and technically not him — he might have gotten up and forced Hyde to wake up with him, so they could have breakfast together and continue their work as early as possible.

But that morning, he was feeling neither. He was not in a good mood, even if Hyde was very adorably snuggling his button-eyed pillow and muttering in his sleep. Nor was he looking forward to the day that would follow, in part because he had to attend some kind of event that Sir Danvers Carew had that afternoon and in part because he couldn't even have Hyde cuddle him to tide him over until that happened. So, he squirmed out from Hyde's jellyfish hold and sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating what would happen if he took the potion again and if it would turn him into another Hyde, or if there was no hope for him.

It didn't seem fair at all. Hyde — Hyde was created to be all of his evil. Born from his every shame, his every humiliating, embarrassing, and possibly illegal urge, Hyde was meant to be abominable. Meant to scare, to terrify whoever he came across with little more than a look; meant to make the skin of even the bravest Victorian man crawl.

Hyde was meant to be the reflection of every flaw Henry Jekyll had so long strived to, well, hide.

So why did everyone like Hyde much, much more than they did Jekyll? Why was Hyde often happier? Why did Hyde often feel more truthful, more free, more alive? Why did people love Hyde, trust him, want him around when they only regarded Jekyll with suspicion or scorn? Wasn't he the better half? The better man? Why did no one else seem to know that?

Even Lanyon was starting to adore Hyde, it seemed. Lanyon had never been too fond of his high society life, so of course, a man who made a mockery of everything about high society would capture his interest more than his boring, fake, and hideous college friend.

It was a horrible thought, to see himself become either irrelevant and forgotten or scorned and mocked despite all his effort to present himself as a well-meaning man and to find himself miserable and mournful, while the man who embodied his every mistake and primitive urge was loved and adored and utterly _happy_.

"I can hear you thinking from over here, you stupid fuck," Hyde said, when he woke up and saw Jekyll looking like he was about to melt. "I can also see you eyeing that godforsaken potion. What's up?"

Jekyll chuckled as Hyde forced himself out of bed. "That 'godforsaken potion' is the reason you exist, Hyde," he said, and Hyde snorted.

"You of all people would know that thoughts of a futile existence are invasive and occasionally really believable," he muttered. "And you didn't answer my question; what's up with the potion? I don't think we need another me."

Jekyll shrugged. "Well, how do we know it will create another you?" he said. "Neither of us really know what the potion does or how it actually ended up working. What'll it do now that you're separate? And what'll happen if you, someone who was created by the potion, takes it?"

"You'll never know because I am not touching that thing again," Hyde said, rolling his eyes as he got up and started getting dressed. At Jekyll's surprised stare, he pouted and asked, "What?"

"Where are you going? Usually you're perfectly happy to only barely cover your modesty unless I force you into actual clothes," Jekyll said, getting up as well. He had work to do, after all; work that didn't vanish just because he was having _feelings_. "And you haven't left the Society much recently, either."

Hyde paused. He was standing by the full length mirror in their room, the one he once spent his nights in whenever he wasn't out on the town. He had put on his cloak and his hat, and even his shoes, for once, but he didn't look all that certain about whatever answer he was about to give. "Well, I — I —" he took a deep breath, and shut his eyes tight, "remember that couple? The one I usually went home with whenever I was out?"

Jekyll raised an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend and girlfriend? Yes, I do remember, but I also remember that you haven't been seeing them as much recently." Hyde nodded at that, biting his lip, and Jekyll frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I — it's just—" Hyde groaned, frustrated at his sudden stammer, and forced himself to say, "I'm thinking I'll break up with them today."

Jekyll stared. Those two, whose names he distantly remembered as Frank and Margaret, had always been stricken with Hyde, and for nearly a year now Hyde met up with them regularly, either for dates or pub nights or just to fuck. They were incredibly sweet, too, with Frank always ready to provide warm arms for a drunken Hyde to collapse into, and Margaret ready to soothe Hyde with her powerful and beautiful voice. "You're doing _what_ now?"

Hyde flinched. "I'm — I'm breaking up with them."

"Why? You — I thought you liked them. And I know they really liked you," Jekyll said, and then bitterly thought, _at least someone actually liked the real you._

"Well, yeah, I did — I really did," said Hyde, looking down and messing with the hem of his jacket. He couldn't exactly tell Jekyll that _he_ was the reason. "It was fun, dating them, but I — I don't think I can have a serious, long-term relationship with them, you know? I wouldn't really be into it, and I — it's not fair to them if I lead them on if that's what they actually want. I have to be honest now."

Jekyll frowned. He couldn't imagine himself in that situation; walking away from people who genuinely wanted him. He'd met very few people who did genuinely want him, and even then, he was more often than not certain that their attention and desire was temporary. Hyde had a chance at something truly wonderful, but he was walking away from it, and Jekyll didn't get it. "Couldn't you try to make it work? It sounds like you could have a really happy life with them."

"I could, but it'd be dishonest, and you know me — I can't lie to save my life," Hyde said, and flashed a grin at Jekyll once they were both ready and dressed. "I won't be away long, and I'll be back before you have to leave for your stupid event." Then, he went to embrace Jekyll for at least a short while, and then he hopped out of the window to leave Jekyll to his own thoughts.

Well, Jekyll's thoughts kept him distracted as he had his breakfast, and as he walked through the halls of the Society to ensure that no one was trying to commit murder or even involuntary manslaughter.

Which was probably why he barreled right over an equally distracted Jasper Kaylock, who was running to the end of the hall and instead ended up running into Jekyll and being stepped on, at least before Jekyll realised he had stepped on a person and started panicking.

"Jasper!" Jekyll exclaimed, getting to his knees and helping up the confused and possibly injured werewolf to his feet. "I am dreadfully sorry! I was distracted but — but that is far from excusing my behaviour! I'm sorry! Won't you let me examine you, I — I am so, so very sorry—!"

"It's okay, it's okay, Dr. J!" Jasper interrupted awkwardly, smiling in a way that didn't exactly put Jekyll at ease. Well, he didn't look too badly injured, at least. "I'm fine, and I get it! I promise I'm alright."

Jekyll sighed in relief. "Still, I'm terribly sorry, Jasper. What were you running for, anyway? You seemed in a rather large hurry."

Jasper flushed a bright red. "O-oh, nothing, Dr. J," he whispered, shyly. "Just — just a nightmare. I was trying to get to Miss Rachel; she always listens when I have nightmares. I thought she'd be in the kitchens, but she's not there."

"Oh," Jekyll said, frowning. "I believe Miss Rachel is visiting with her sister-in-law today, Jasper, I'm sorry." Then, when Jasper wilted and looked away, he added, "But I would be happy to lend an open ear, only if you'd feel comfortable telling me, of course."

For a while, he thought Jasper was going to disagree, and maybe mutter some excuse to hide the fact that he simply didn't trust Jekyll enough to be vulnerable around him, but it seemed Jasper was much more shaken up than he looked, because Jasper eventually nodded, and they took solace in Jekyll's office.

Jasper, blessedly, said nothing of the frankly obscene collection of wine and gin in Jekyll's cabinets, and didn't seem to notice the full length mirror that Hyde had since covered in a thick white cloth. He only sat on the couch in Jekyll's office, rocking back and forth, and though Jekyll debated with himself — just himself, not with Hyde, not _anymore_ with Hyde — for a while, eventually he approached Jasper and wrapped a single arm around his shoulders. Evidently, it was that touch that Jasper was waiting for, because soon he turned and wrapped tight, desperate arms around Jekyll and began to spill the monstrous lengths of his nightmares.

It was — it was strange, to have someone besides Hyde trust him with the darkness and the monstrous in their souls, and to be fair, it was partly his fault. But as Jasper cried about his regret over the destruction he often caused, and about his fears that someday he would no longer find any humanity in himself, Jekyll found himself opening up, too, only barely managing to not reveal his and Hyde's secret. Still, Jasper seemed skeptical, as if unwilling to believe that the wonderfully perfect Dr. Jekyll would ever doubt his humanity, and though it stung to think that he apparently seemed like he could not be hurt, Jekyll managed to soothe Jasper enough that the boy was smiling through his tears and sharing a glass of wine with Jekyll in less than an hour.

It was a rather enjoyable time, and after Jekyll had gotten Jasper to fit into a well-tailored suit, the two men sat at the couch with their glasses of wine and talked of nothing and everything at the same time. Jasper grew comfortable enough that he leaned carelessly against Jekyll, giggling and smiling as they argued over the finer points of the Hollow Earth Theory, and Jekyll was only grateful that Jasper had yet to be either intimidated or bored by his presence.

It was while he was complaining about Hyde constantly leaving all the cupboards in their office open and sneaking the still invisible mice into said cupboards that Jasper said, "You really like Mr. Hyde, don't you, Dr. Jekyll?"

Jekyll sputtered. "No! No, absolutely not!" But before long, he shook his head, looked away, and chuckled bitterly. "Even if I did, it doesn't matter."

Jasper frowned. "Why not? If you like him and he likes you, that's all that matters, right?"

"Not for someone like me, Jasper," said Jekyll, taking another long sip of his wine and hiding his face with his free hand. "It's not — not befitting of someone with my social status. My reputation. And if — if word got out to the public, I'd not only have to worry about getting my and Edward arrested, but also if the Society would survive amidst all of that."

"What does the Society have to do with you liking Mr. Hyde?" Jasper asked, seemingly confused, and Jekyll chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.

"Because the Society lives and dies by my reputation, Jasper. If I'm disgraced, no one will support this endeavour, and — and all of you would find yourselves homeless. Without a secure place to pursue your studies. Without any community to support you, and without the security and funding that the Society provides you," answered Jekyll. "And if it was revealed that I — that I'm bisexual, and that I'm interested in a man — I'd be ruined. Utterly ruined."

Jasper looked like he actually felt sorry for Jekyll, and Jekyll could only give a bitter smile. At least he hadn't scared Jasper away. At least he wasn't yet being mocked for his feelings. "But that's — that's not fair!" Jasper exclaimed. "You work so hard to keep the Society running, and you're always there when we need you. You even managed to cure Frankenstein! You of all people have the right to be happy! Why would people focus on something so irrelevant?"

Jekyll shrugged. "High Society is dangerous and strange," he answered. "And even if the connections one makes are valuable, it's very easy to slip up. Very easy to go from being the good and well-known paragon to nothing more than a _queer_. And it's all too easy to become nobody." He sniffed and smiled a dry, joyless smile. "It's not a place for a man who wants to be happy. And it's why I can't be too much of a mad scientist; certainly not to the extent I want. I can't share my maddest, best, most successful experiment with anyone because I have to remain a gentleman. I have to bridge high society and mad science, but it's — it's really difficult to balance both."

Jasper was silent awhile, but he looked far too wounded by the fact. "That's — I never would have expected that it'd be hard for you, Dr. Jekyll. You always seem so sure that everything will be alright, and it never seems like you're tired."

A smile tickled Jekyll's lips. "All part of being the perfect gentleman, of course," he said. "I can never show any weakness, or the world will swallow me whole."

After that, Jasper was silent for a while, as if wondering what to do. Then, cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Jekyll again, trying his best to be calming and comforting despite his own fried nerves. "Well, you — you can show me weakness," he said, "I wouldn't mind."

Jekyll cracked a gentle smile as he returned Jasper's embrace. It was only belatedly that he realised that if he had a choice, he'd be telling Hyde, because Hyde would already know what to do. Hyde would understand perfectly well what he meant, why it hurt, and what he needed to do. But perhaps — perhaps there was no harm in allowing someone else to learn.

"Thank you," he whispered, and shut his eyes. "Thank you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyde is having feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the tonal whiplash in these chapters, but this has gotten way more angsty than I ever thought it would be?

Perhaps he should've been a little more guilty at the thought of finding his (former) lovers and telling them that a relationship with them wasn't what he was looking for. Perhaps he should've tried harder to lie and cover up the fact that it was because he was head over heels for someone else, whether or not that someone else was a shy and irritatingly repressed gentleman or a wild sex-crazed criminal. And perhaps he should've been more remorseful at their sorrowful faces; at the way they smiled for him and told him they were happy to have had him at all despite so clearly being hurt.

He didn't expect that he would ever hurt anyone; at least, not that way. Of course he already knew that he was a piece of shit — he absolutely still loved to hop into any fight he could come across, hoping to cause ever more chaos and destruction, and he used to take great pleasure in tormenting Jekyll and pushing him to believe that he was utterly fake and incompetent. Heck, most of Jekyll's issues were probably worsened rather than helped by Hyde's existence, in contrast to what Hyde was arguably born for. He was used to Jekyll occasionally still freezing whenever Hyde spoke, because he was used to being hurt by Hyde's words and the perceived truth behind them.

Hyde was used to hurting others. But he didn't think that — that someone would be hurt because he was _leaving_.

At the end of their admittedly difficult talk — because eugh, feelings were absolutely _disgusting_ — Frank and Margaret had both agreed that it was the best choice for them all, and Hyde had, truthfully enough, told them that even without his absolutely glorious presence, they made an absolutely wonderful couple, and they simply could not forget that. They'd parted with one final kiss, and with promises to stay in touch, and with that, Hyde hopped onto the rooftops of the bright and busy city and began to make his way back home.

Heh. Home. It wasn't really where he had to live — he had a flat in Soho still, after all, and he could very easily head there instead and find a quick fuck in the dark, dingy alleys of the town instead of actually having to dwell on _feelings_. But he supposed that his home would be wherever he most wanted to be, and unfortunately for his sanity, he most wanted to be with Dr. Henry Jekyll and his utterly repressed ass. Whether or not it was in his arms after a nice, long night in the sheets, or watching his beautiful face light up with his rare, boisterous, obnoxious and incredibly ungentlemanly laughs at the most crude and brash of jokes, he was the only one Hyde could truly imagine being with for the rest of his life. And as cheesy and stupidly emotional as that was, well, it was the truth.

That did not mean that Hyde wasn't scared out of his wits, though. It did not take a genius to realise that Hyde was an utter idiot in general, but especially when it came to relationships. Only a few years ago, he didn't even have a separate physical or even mental existence, and only months ago, he was an utter jackass to the man who created and protected him. And even now, he wasn't sure he grasped the concept of a relationship that wasn't built on drunken brawls and drunken sex, although if he was going to be anyone worth Jekyll's time, well, he would have to understand.

And quite surprisingly for the blond bitch, he was willing to try.

He paused on the roof of the Society. It wasn't even noon yet, and he was willing to bet that his dear creator was slaving away at paperwork and beating himself up over whatever he was mulling over that morning. Whatever that cursed potion did.

Hyde, quite frankly, did not want to know what that damnable potion did. He did not want to know how it worked, or how the hell it could have been different if Jekyll had been in a better state of mind when he first took the potion, mostly because it was likely that he, or whoever would have been born, would probably be a lot more pleasant. A lot more helpful, too, and someone who would not have made Jekyll suffer in silence the way Hyde did. Someone who deserved Jekyll a hell of a lot more than he did, the thought of which often made Hyde feel like shit because he _could_ have been better. There was never any reason he couldn't be both reckless _and_ kind, at least to the guy who created him, if not to the rest of the world. There was no reason for him to have made Jekyll's life absolute hell, and yet he had.

And now, whenever he thought of Jekyll's sad, desperate and exhausted face, with the large bags he often covered up with make-up and the dead smile, the dead look in his eyes, he wanted to throw himself into the East End sewers and die there.

He sighed as he hopped off the roof and swung into Jekyll's office. And that was why he hated thinking! Why he hated introspection! He was such a horrible being that it made him physically sick sometimes! Why did brains have to exist! Why did _feelings_ have to exist! He hated them!  


He also hated the rush of — of utter envy that coursed through him at the sight that greeted him when he popped in.

Jekyll was cuddling the werepup. Honest to God cuddling! And Jekyll looked so comfortable, and so did Jasper, and Jekyll was blushing in the beautiful way he did when he took just a little too much pleasure in something that was undignified, and bloody hell, even Jasper was slightly blushing! Hyde had his suspicions that the guy had the teensiest crush on Jekyll, but he never expected anything to come of it! He thought it was obvious that Jekyll was meant to be with him! Even Lanyon understood that! Since when did cute, pure, and utter _baby_ Jasper Kaylock think he could lay his mitts on Hyde's man?!

And Jekyll didn’t even notice his arrival! Noooo, he was way too absorbed in drinking and giggling with his little baby wolf that he didn't even bat an eye at Hyde! Jekyll always noticed him! Always paid attention to him! He always took care of Hyde even when he had every reason to just kick Hyde into the streets and forget about him! He always understood when Hyde was being a diva or an attention whore and he — he was ignoring him!

Well, Hyde wasn't a green eyed demon for nothing. He growled, low and loud, and both the doctor and his little pet jumped.

"Hyde!" Jekyll exclaimed, blushing cutely in a way that both aroused and agitated Hyde even more, and Jasper looked very panicked at Hyde's probably murderous expression. Good. Little puppies should know to keep their hands to themselves.

"M-mister Hyde! H-hi! We — I — we didn't think y-you'd be back so quickly!" Jasper stammered, and Hyde only growled louder.

"Shoo, mutt!" Hyde hissed, even though he was distantly aware that Jekyll would scold him later, "Find yourself your own cuddle buddy."

Jekyll looked a little shocked at his words, which though understandable, was a little annoying. Couldn't the guy take a hint? "Edward, there's no need to be so aggressive," he said, sounding equally as shocked as he looked, and Hyde huffed indignantly. "You said it last night, we have other friends. You don't need to be so focused on how I choose to spend my time."

Hyde wilted at that, and he slumped into the wall, arms crossed and mouth twisted into a pout. "Right, sure. _Friends,_ " he growled again, and though the irony of him growling like a wolf at a wolf was not lost on him, he did what he did best and ignored it. "You've already fucked a werewolf; who's to say you won't do it again? How do I know that's not what you're aiming to do!"

Jasper blushed the brightest possible red at that, and Jekyll sputtered, looking absolutely scandalised. "Hyde! That's not at all appropriate!"

"Well, am I wrong, Dr. Jekyll!" Hyde demanded, gritting his teeth. Great, now he was being an absolute ass again. An absolutely jealous ass.

"No, but — Hyde, you can't — that's not at all fair!" Jekyll said, and though he sounded desperate, the combined jealousy and self-hatred Hyde was feeling was much stronger than his wishful thinking. "Besides, even if I — even if I was interested in Jasper, Hyde, which I would like to stress I am _not_ , why would it be any of your concern?"

"It's not!" Hyde shouted, now fully done and probably furious enough that he'd tear off Jasper's dick if he came too close. "Fuck off and leave me alone! I just wish you were allergic to dog fur, you repressed, cowardly, fish-gutted _moron!"_

And with that, seething and seeing red and absolutely furious with himself for how much of a shit person he was, Hyde stormed out of the office, slamming the door as loud as he could on his way out. Great. More proof as to why he probably didn't deserve Jekyll. God, he was horrible. Absolutely fucking horrible.

Annoyingly, true to Hyde's request, Jekyll did leave him alone like the bloody gentleman he was. Jekyll didn't bother him even as he tore through the Society, causing chaos and destroying the lighting's circuitry and stealing Griffin's now permanently invisible cat, and even as he accidentally set fire to his hair and nearly had to shave half of it off his head. He only actually approached Hyde when they were getting ready for bed, which was inevitable because they shared both a room and a bed. And yes, Hyde knew he could've gone to his own flat, but fuck it if he wasn't an absolute masochist and hypocrite.

"Why were you canoodling with the werepup? Isn’t he a bit young for you?" Hyde growled when Jekyll settled into bed, his hair dreadfully unwashed and messy, and looking quite miserable. Great. How much did he fuck up now?

Jekyll exhaled heavily. Why, _why_ was the universe fucking with him? "Hyde, it wasn't anything. He had a nightmare and Rachel wasn't around, so I was helping him through it, and he, in turn, lent an open ear to me. You don't have to worry, and you certainly didn't have to bring up Morcant."

"Oh, _sure_ ," Hyde hissed. "Just a nightmare. Completely, utterly believable. Not like you barely bat an eyelash at _my_ nightmares. No, the perfect doctor assumes I'm as fake as he is and can easily cover up all the bullshit. Simple."

"Nightmares? You?" Jekyll stared, evidently confused. "I didn't — I didn't know you even wanted my help, Hyde."

Hyde threw his arms up. "You never asked! What the hell would you know!" he yelled.

"Hyde, we're not telepathically linked anymore, I couldn't _possibly_ have known!" Jekyll protested, sounding like he was verging on impatient screaming.

"You're _literally_ me! Only I have to deal with the worst of your issues!" Hyde screeched, not unlike a banshee. "You should have known!"

"I _didn't_! Do you — do you really think I'd let you suffer alone if I did know? I _care_ about you, Hyde, though for what reason only _Satan_ knows!"

Hyde growled in frustration, and in his anger he sent the mirror next to him crashing into the floor, breaking into a million pieces. Goddamn Jekyll for being so noble! For being so good and kind and caring even when Hyde was going apeshit! It would have been a dream if Jekyll had just thrown him out onto the streets when they were first separated — at least it would mean that Hyde had a reason to be such a terrible person. But no, all Jekyll ever was, was good and kind and so _frustratingly_ charming!

"Shut _up_! Shut up with the excuses!" Hyde shrieked. "Go explain to that mutt of yours, I don't give a _damn_!"

Jekyll looked like he was about to cry, and Hyde, for his part, was about to throw himself out the window. "Why do you _care_ , Hyde? Even if I was interested in Jasper, why would that matter?"

"It _doesn't_!" Hyde squeezed his eyes shut, because now _he_ felt like he was going to cry. Well, he wasn't wrong, it wouldn't matter. Whether or not Jekyll was already interested in someone, it wouldn't matter, because the fucker deserved someone so much better than Hyde. "I don't care. I don't care anymore. Fuck off and let me suffer on my own."

"What? No. No, I wouldn't," said Jekyll, getting up and making his way to Hyde, who'd curled up in a ball beside the shards of the broken mirror. He opened his arms to Hyde, and to his surprise, his seemingly miserable alter-ego eagerly leaned into his embrace. "Hyde, please. Tell me what's wrong. I do want to help, I just have to know what I'm helping with."

"Nothing," Hyde grunted, choking on a sob. "Absolutely nothing. I'm fine."

"That kind of tantrum does not leave someone 'fine,' Hyde," Jekyll said, and Hyde hated just how concerned he sounded. How in the absolute Hell did that potion make someone as despicable as Hyde from someone as purely _good_ as Jekyll? "Please tell me."

"I hate it," he grumbled, relenting. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? Jekyll's attention? His concern? Possibly his love? "I hate seeing you so close to someone who doesn't know you. I bloody hate that prick you call a best friend, because what the hell has he done besides make you feel like shit? I hate — I hate that pretty much all I've done is make you feel like shit. I fucking hate that I'm the one who's supposed to make you feel better but some random-ass farmboy does a better job at it than me—!"

Jekyll froze at the declaration. "Hyde," he said, slowly, "is that — is that what this is about? Jasper?"

Hyde huffed. "Partially, yeah. I — I don't know, I just thought I'd always be the one you went to when you're having problems. I thought I knew you. I thought you knew me, because you _are_ me. And then I was having feelings this morning and I was going to talk to you about them and then when I come into your office, you ignore me for the werepup, and it's just — I guess it was confirmation that you didn't really need me. Or want me. I don't know. I don't fucking know. I fucking hate being me. That's all."

"Oh, Hyde," Jekyll whispered. "Hyde, I don't — I didn't mean to ignore you, I swear it. I'm so sorry you felt that way."

Hyde rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go again. Jekyll, darling, it was not your fault. My bullshit is not your fault. Please get it into your head that not everything is your fault, and sometimes people are just assholes. Sometimes I'm just an asshole, no matter how much I hate it and no matter how jealous I am."

"Well, there's no need for you to be jealous, Hyde," whispered Jekyll, rubbing Hyde's back soothingly. "I vow, you'll always be the most important one in my life."

Hyde blinked. "Oh, really?"

"Of course," Jekyll said, and he sounded so sure of himself that Hyde actually wanted to hope. You'll always be my best friend, Hyde."

There was a beat of silence, after that sentence, in which Hyde stared almost disbelievingly at Jekyll.

And then he screamed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyde has a breakdown over jekyll's bullshit and the Lodgers are,,, not very kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this took forever, and that the ending of this chapter might be a bit abrupt. university starts for me in four days (EEK!) and i have been really busy. not to mention, my stupid ass accidentally deleted the outline and wip chapter I had for this work.

If the rest of the Lodgers hadn't been alerted by Hyde's very high-pitched, girlish scream the night previous, then they sure as Hell were alerted now, by Hyde's pathetic groaning and whining as he flopped on the floor of the Society like a barrel of live, wet, wriggling fish. 

Quite rightly, the Lodgers were confused, at first, wondering why the supposedly indomitable and utterly careless Edward Hyde was crying on the floor, wearing barely anything besides his cape full of holes to cover his modesty, whining that he would never be worthy of the love of his life, and that never would some unnamed man see him as anything like a lover, because he was nowhere near good enough and the man deserved only perfection.

Now, this was a shock to the Lodgers for many reasons. One, being that they'd all believed Hyde to be somewhat of a narcissist who thought the world of himself, it was quite a shock that he'd actually humble himself to the point of being self-deprecating. Two, they'd also believed that Hyde simply was not the type to date or to want to date or, god forbid, the type to actually be pining for anyone. They'd all thought he was the type to fuck and run, especially because quite a few of the Lodgers had been first-hand witness to what an enthusiastic shag Edward Hyde could be. And to hear him actually pining and bitching about the love of his life — well, that was beyond strange.

They were only even more shocked when they heard that the supposed love of Edward Hyde's life, the man who deserved nothing less than absolute perfection and the man who had reduced Hyde into a puddle of pining mush was none other than their oh, so fake founder, Dr. Henry Jekyll himself.

"Hold it, what?" Griffin demanded, when Hyde finally gave up the name of his dreadfully unrequited love in a mess of blubbering sobs. Not really sobs, mind you, just Hyde's dramatics. "Jekyll? You're this much of a mess over fucking Dr. Jekyll?!"

Hyde screeched. "Why wouldn't I be?" he sobbed, flopping over again, nearly making Rachel, who had just arrived from visiting with her mystery sister-in-law, trip over his bony, twinky body. "He's — he's perfect! Utterly perfect! He's so good and so beautiful and ughhhh, I need him to hold me down and pound me but he's never going to because he doesn’t love _meeeeeeeeee_ _!"_

The Lodgers present, consisting of Griffin, Luckett, Helsby, and Mrs. C, and now Rachel, who was watching her foolish friend roll about with his bits barely hidden, all stared at Hyde. For entirely different reasons, because they had different reactions.

Helsby demanded, "Dr. Jekyll? Perfect? You think that's a good thing?!" 

Mrs. C, on the other hand, asked, "Wait, hold it, weren't you two already sleepin' together?"

"No, we weren't!" Hyde cried, flopping about again. "I made that shit up because I'm fucking pathetic! Jekyll's not gotten laid in nearly fifteen fuckin' years! And I wish we were but noooo, practically perfect Dr. Jekyll can't be caught dead with his dick inside anything but his damn pants. It's not fair!"

Griffin, on his part, looked quite disgusted. "Wait, why Dr. Jekyll, of all people?!" he demanded. "That fake fucking shell of a doctor, really, Hyde? Why?"

"Oi!" Rachel hissed, wielding a rolling pin that she seemed to have kept in her pocket, "That's my best friend you're talking about, shut it, prick!"

"Oh, yeah, that fake fucking shell of a doctor whose the reason you're not sleeping underneath Tower Bridge, yeah," Hyde grumbled, crossing his arms. No one could hear him, blessedly, because he wasn't sure Griffin wouldn't punch him in the face, and he quite liked his face. "Fuck Frankenstein and her stupid fucking propaganda."

"Besides that," said Rachel, looking quite a bit furious at Griffin who now looked like he wanted to be invisible, "what's up with Jekyll never being able to love you? You two already act like a married couple, for fuck's sake! You're stuck to him 24-7!"

"Yeah, because I force it," Hyde muttered. "And because the bastard is so touch starved that he wouldn't refuse literally anyone, and also because the bastard has no fucking standards if he's hanging out with me. Me! I made his life hell! I am a shitty fucking excuse for a fucking friend, let alone anyone he would actually want to kiss!"

"Besides," he pouted, snapping out of his little self-deprecating monologue, and giving Rachel large, green doe-eyes. "What if he only marries me as a friend! He said so himself yesterday! I'm just a friend!!!!"

"Well, then be his best fucking friend," Griffin huffed, still looking a little put out by Rachel and her 500-N rolling pin. 

Hyde violently convulsed, his hands making a mess of his hair and making him look like a porcupine. "And what, be on the same level as Lanyon?! Hell no! Besides! I don't want Henry to be my best friend! I don't see him as a friend!"

"Oh, don't worry, no one else does," Griffin snorted. "Fuckin' fake. You're better off ditching him and his stupid fucking reputation and respectability."

"It's true, Mr. Hyde!" Mrs. C interrupted. "It's best if you forget him! You could do so much better, truly! And you'd be safe from having all the wonderful madness in you taken away and washed out by his high society morals!"

And as Rachel exploded again and started scolding the Lodgers for their cruelty towards Jekyll, Hyde sat on the floor and rocked back and forth. He saw Jasper staring at him from the hall, and he sneered at the baby wolf, who shrank back and fucked off back into the hallway. Good. Bitch had better keep away from his Henry. Not that Henry was his. Not that Henry would ever want to be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to have Lanyon confront Hyde after his little meltdown and maybe help him with his anger issues, maybe angstily matchmake Hyde and Jekyll even though he's thirsting over Hyde and Jekyll, but I have decided that a certain other friend of Henry Jekyll's would be a better fit for that role ;)
> 
> so anyone who's got a soft spot for stoic british lawyers with three names, some treats coming in the future chapters!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyde isn't the only one who gets to have an identity crisis. . .

Henry had woken up late that morning, he'd be the first to admit it. Perhaps it was exhaustion from Sir Carew's little dinner party the previous night — but of course, as was the way of the wealthy, it was the type of dinner party that was uncomfortably stiff and formal, and that which felt like the wolves were going to devour you if you made a single misstep. Perhaps it was a hangover from his admittedly excessive drinking the day before — which was doubtful, because he'd often drank much worse volumes and survived unscathed. Or, at least, visibly unscathed.

Or perhaps it was emotional exhaustion, instead. He wasn't used, still, to being so vulnerable. To really showing how he felt, heck, he often didn't admit to himself how he was feeling. It just wasn't done. Honesty and true feeling and passion — it wasn't done. Not by a gentleman. Not by a leader. Not by a man who many depended on for work and food and shelter. Not — not by Henry Jekyll.

And especially now that he was truly separate from Hyde — he couldn't be honest.

He sighed as he forced himself to get up, and sighed again when he realised that Hyde was gone. Though rationally, Hyde was likely in the Society somewhere, most probably in the kitchens bugging Rachel and stealing her food, he couldn't help the crushing grief that filled him; the crushing loneliness. He wasn't used to being alone. Not anymore. He hated it. And yet he may yet confront the possibility of it becoming a permanent state, if he could not find a way to bring himself and Hyde together again.

And if Hyde no longer wished to be fused again. . .

He swallowed and shut his eyes, willing no tears to fall. He was Henry Jekyll. Lawyer, doctor, leader. Depended upon by many, and looked up to by many more. He had work to do. He always had work to do. There was no time to wallow in his pity, or his sadness — they didn't matter. His feelings didn't matter. And if Hyde wanted to abandon him, now, now that he'd found a greater fulfillment in life than just being Jekyll — it didn't — it didn't matter— it didn't—

Henry choked and a strangled sob escaped him, but he quickly swallowed it down. He stood. Back arched, head held high, eyes bright with a passion and love he no longer had, and smile gentle and encouraging, beaming with a hope that long since escaped him. No tears. No sadness. No cracks in the façade. Nothing imperfect.

He heard voices in the dining room, and surmised that that must be where Hyde was. Around him, some of his — shall we say, more idealistic Lodgers gathered around him, and Jekyll froze to see them. What could they be talking about? Why Hyde? Had he told the Lodgers? Had he been gossiping about Jekyll behind his back all the while, only keeping up his affectionate display out of guilt, or — or worse, malice? Had he — had he never really wanted Jekyll's company?

His hands were shaking, and Jekyll forced himself to swallow his sobs and listen. He felt so weak, so emotional, so exposed. He felt so — so broken. He hated this — the feeling of doubt, of paranoia, of severe distrust while he had to smile and be reassuring to the people around him all the while.

". . .then be his best fucking friend."

Jekyll frowned. Was that Griffin? And who was he talking to? What about?

"And what, be on the same level as Lanyon?!" a very bright, distinct voice shrieked, and Jekyll flinched. They were talking about him. They were talking about him. Oh God. Oh God. What for? Would Hyde soon forsake him? Would Hyde betray him, leave him, kill him— "Hell no! Besides! I don't want Henry to be my best friend!"

"I don't see him as a friend!" 

The very blood in his veins froze. That — that was Hyde. His Hyde. And they were talking about Jekyll, and if they were talking about Jekyll and that was Hyde speaking it meant— it meant he didn't see Jekyll as a friend. Never mind Jekyll's more. . . romantic feelings towards Hyde, it was all hopeless, because regardless of it all — Hyde didn't want him. Not really. Perhaps not ever. And it made Henry want to scream, for there was a sudden and sharp sting in his heart, because he — he had been right. Hyde didn't want him — and perhaps he never had. Perhaps he always had been all too happy to be separated from his stupid, moronic, fake creator — perhaps he was all too happy to be free.

And who — who was Jekyll to deny him that?

Beyond the tears now silently streaming down his face, and beyond the aching in his chest, he could hear Griffin and Mrs. C continue with their gossip, with declaring just how much better off Hyde would be without him and — and how Hyde should simply forget him, but all he could focus on was Hyde. He was grumbling, as he often did, but there was genuine discomfort and genuine anger in his expression, and Jekyll—

Jekyll fled.

There was little else he could do.

And there was little else he ever did. He always ran. Always hid. Even from himself — even in himself. He always hid from his emotions and hid from the slightest bit of vulnerability and he was never honest, never true, never real, and even as Hyde he—

Hyde.

He rushed to his office and slammed the door shut before falling to his knees and allowing himself to shatter.

He knew the day would come. It always did. It was a miracle Hyde had — had been able to pretend that he tolerated, wanted, cared about Jekyll for so long, and — and Jekyll was grateful for the time he did get. Truly, truly he was fine, and he was thankful, and he had been lucky to have had Hyde as much as he did and — and he should be happy, happy for Hyde, happy that he had people who he truly did consider friends, and he should rise and smile and get on with his work because he was Henry Jekyll and he was not allowed to cry—

But the second his office door was closed, an agonised sob was ripped from his throat.

He — he was in pain. No doubt about it. And no hiding it, now, because he was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot and his hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold himself up, and — and there was no denying how he felt. He felt horrible. Broken. Disastrous. He felt passed over, yet again, his true self despised and spat down on so much that he no longer knew who he was. His name was everywhere in London. The man who once was a miracle doctor, curing the ailments of anyone who approached him, and now as the man who bridged mad science and high society. Everyone knew who he was, and yet — yet at the same time, no one did.

Not even himself.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to know himself. Beyond the farce of a doctor and beyond the farce of a scientist and gentleman and friend that he was — who was he? Was he anyone? Was he good? Was he evil, or brutish, or cruel? Or simply, was he deplorable? Hated? Perhaps impossible to love?

He didn't know. And not knowing — was terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> university. is. brutal!  
> that's partly on me for taking BS Physics, i'm sure, but still it has left me with little time to write.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyde is moody and lanyon is Confused

Hyde hated Jekyll's smile.

Not his real smile, mind you. Not the dirty, lecherous grin that Jekyll made whenever he enjoyed one of Hyde's crude, sex jokes far too much. Not the wicked smirk that lit up Jekyll's face when he allowed some of his more devious thoughts to amuse him, and certainly not the bright smile that Jekyll had when he was excited about some new scientific discovery or other. The last one, Hyde loved to bits, because it never usually showed up around anyone — only around Hyde. It was a part of Jekyll that loved science, loved madness, loved insanity but was still utterly _Jekyll_ , not Hyde, and it was proof that there was more to Jekyll than just the painted toy gentleman that Lanyon had molded him into.

But he hated the smile Jekyll had on, now.

He always hated Jekyll's fake smile. It was too much, too bright, and it was proof that no one around them really _knew_ Jekyll. Not even Lanyon, who'd taught Jekyll that horrid, horrid smile, could tell when he was using it to cover up some large, haunting pain inside. And Jekyll wore it near all the time, the kind of smile that made his eyes lose both the madness and care in them, the kind of smile that made him look like he was sparkling but also drained, dead, and lifeless. Hyde hated to admit that he did look beautiful with the smile on, but also, he looked empty, and he looked almost like a stranger to Hyde in those times.

He hated that when Jekyll smiled that smile, it proved just how little everyone knew him. How little everyone cared about him.

However, Hyde had long since learned to suck it up and accept that Jekyll would be fed to the sharks if he so much as let a slip of weakness show through, and so instead he made it his mission to draw out Jekyll's true, genuine, _passionate_ smile more often. So no, Jekyll's stupid sparkly smile was not solely what was pissing off Hyde at the moment.

It was the fact that that damn smile was on even when Jekyll was around Hyde, and Hyde _alone_.

Hyde — Hyde didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't know why Jekyll had suddenly used his fake smile against Hyde like he just _expected_ it to work, somehow. Like he thought that Hyde was like all the people around them; like he thought that Hyde didn't really know Jekyll. And he didn't know, either, why Jekyll even _needed_ it. He'd never hidden his true emotions around Hyde. If he was feeling like shit, usually, he _showed_ Hyde, even if Hyde had a track record of using that to manipulate him. No, despite all the reasons Hyde should be the person Jekyll trusted _least,_ he never hid anything from Hyde.

And now that he was — Hyde wondered just what he did wrong. Just what he did to make Henry view him, suddenly, on the same level as Lanyon and the rest of the Lodgers. What he did to make Henry think that Hyde didn't know him — that Hyde didn't _care_ about him.

Bitter and confused, Hyde planted himself on the steps in front of the Society to sulk. He couldn't be around Henry — not when it was so clear that Henry didn't want to be around him. Not when Henry no longer trusted him.

He wondered, too, if it was too late. If Henry had already determined that Hyde just wasn't worth his time or attention anymore, given all his past errors and his past crimes. If Henry had realised that Hyde was unlovable, that he was too broken and too evil and too malevolent to be trusted. And — and the worst part was, Hyde couldn't _blame_ him if he had. He would only be right. It was true. Hyde had been horrible, he'd been cruel and he'd been brutal but — but he'd hoped there was a chance he could make it up to Jekyl. That there was a chance Jekyll would give him a chance, if only to redeem himself, but—

—but apparently, it was more than he deserved. He'd known that already, of course, but to have Henry acknowledge it—

It stung all the same.

He didn't know how long he sat on the steps, just sulking, staring, and wishing he understood Jekyll. All he knew was that, suddenly, he was jolted from his melancholic thoughts by a leather shoe kicking at his shin, and he turned and growled at whoever had dared to insult him so.

He was jolted yet again when he realised it was his dear creator's dearest friend, Robert Lanyon, looking much more somber and sorrowful than he had ever seen the man since their college days, back when Lanyon and Jekyll had had their little fling and before Jekyll had fucked Morcant. But just because they ended their little affair didn't mean Lanyon wasn't still pining over Jekyll, only that he was shit at showing it.

"What do you want?" Hyde growled, baring his teeth and gnashing them, but Lanyon didn't seem phased. Or intelligent in any way, for that matter, because he just silently sat down on the steps _next to the snarling demon_ and stared at the rough sidewalk in front of him. His clothes were perfectly pressed, his hands were smooth and delicate and babyish, and he was wearing his stupid fucking hat, but he looked miserable, so unlike the smiling, joking, lazy farce of a doctor he knew.

"Misty day, isn't it, Hyde?" Lanyon asked, and Hyde rolled his eyes. Boring bitch.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" he asked, not meeting Lanyon's eyes, which was remarkably easy since Lanyon didn't seem too keen on looking at anyone either. "Why aren't ya with Jekyll? He finally kick you to the curb after realising what a shit excuse for a friend you are?"

"And you?" Lanyon bit back, hissing, and Hyde turned to glare at him. "For all the rumours that you two are sleeping together, I rarely ever see you two in the same room, much less do I see him actually _happy_ to see you! You're nothing but a _burden_ to him!"

"Like he's any better with you, you pathetic, empty headed fuck!" growled Hyde, hands clenched into fists. Why the bloody _hell_ was Lanyon trying to pick a fight with him?! Why was Lanyon even talking to him! He knew how Lanyon saw him — how Lanyon and his stupid high society friends saw _anyone_ who was remotely different from them. And sure, Lanyon had gotten somewhat tolerable since Jekyll and Hyde had been separated, but even then he'd been bugging Henry day and night to keep up his little play of a perfect gentleman. Miraculously, Hyde hadn't gone off on him until now.

"What is that meant to mean, you mad, dangerous brute!"

"It’s meant to mean that you don't deserve to call him your best friend, you fucking asshole!" Hyde shrieked, throwing his hands up and getting to his feet. "You know _fuck_ all about Henry! No, all you know about the guy you call your best friend is the fake, painted, _dying_ gentleman you forced him to be! Everything beautiful, insane, _mad_ about him, you tried to scrub away so you could make him the perfect fucking London citizen! And so what if he's miserable under the mask! So what if he doesn't even know who he is anymore! You don’t give a damn! You never have! You _don’t CARE!_ ""

Hyde was panting by the end of his rant, his heart racing and his chest _aching_. Fuck. He'd underestimated how — just how relevant to _himself_ that entire tirade was. Just how painful it would be. He'd never really dwelled on the fact that he _was_ Jekyll, at the end of the day — he was everything Jekyll had hidden and hated and repressed. Everything Jekyll couldn't be, Hyde was, and — and it was all this bastard's fault. The bastard Jekyll called a best friend — the bastard who was meant to be _his_ best friend! — hated him. Looked down on him, despised him, would _step_ on him given half the chance—

He crumpled. And tears were streaking down his face and violent sobs were wracking through him before he could think, before he could stop himself and prevent Robert _bleeding_ Lanyon from realising just how affected he was by all this, and he hated it, hated how vulnerable he was and hated how _painful_ it was—

"Hyde?" Lanyon asked, suddenly sounding terrified and suddenly sounding _concerned_ , like he ever gave a damn about Jekyll or Hyde. "Hyde, what — what's wrong—"

"Go away," Hyde sobbed, hating how soft his voice was, hating how pathetic he sounded. Lanyon had never bothered him before, why now? Why now when he'd always been fine to hate Lanyon and his stupid high society influences before? He hated — he hated Lanyon. He hated Lanyon for molding Jekyll into the miserable, perfect doctor he was now. Hated Lanyon and everything he stood for — and now he hated himself for being so affected by someone who wasn't him anymore. "You don't care. You never have. You hate me, don't you? You hate everything about me. It's why you had to change Jekyll so much. Couldn't let him be like me."

Lanyon's pointy nose scrunched up, and his tone when he spoke was guarded, but confused. "What are you talking about? Hyde, we've talked less than five times in three years — why are you talking like you know me? And like I know you?"

Hyde barked out a dry, demeaning laugh. "Ha! You have no idea, Lanyon. I know you better than you think. And I know how much of me _and_ Henry you couldn't give less of a fuck about."

"He's my best bloody friend!" Lanyon hissed. "And it's not like you're much better! You make his life a living _hell,_ Hyde! You're nothing but a burden, nothing but a _mistake_ —!"

"I KNOW!" Hyde shrieked, and broke into sobs again. Lanyon froze. He — he hadn't meant to let it get that far. Certainly, he hadn't meant to make Edward Hyde, a man known to be callous and cruel and careless — he hadn't meant to make Hyde _cry_. "I know I'm a mistake. I know I'm fucked, and that Henry deserves so much better than me and that he could have had better than me and — and that he never should've created me, not when he could've had anyone else and that I couldn't even fulfill the one purpose for which I was created — I couldn't even make him happy and why should I think that I can make him happy _now_ —!"

_"Created you?"_

It was Hyde's turn to freeze. He stared at Lanyon, who was staring back with wide eyes, confused and shocked, and _fuck,_ fuck he and Henry had been careful for so long and because Hyde was an utter _idiot_ he just had to spill it, just because he was feeling sad and because he was selfish and fucking _stupid_. He flinched as Lanyon grabbed his shoulder and made him look up.

_"Hyde, what do you mean Henry_ created _you?!"_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyde realises that maybe,,, maybe he doesn't really want to toss lanyon into a volcano.

_"Hyde, what do you mean Henry_ created _you?!"_

Hyde was frozen. No. No. No way. 3 years. 3 years they'd kept their most dangerous, most criminal, most _damning_ secret safe. 3 years since Henry got stuck with him, and nearly one year since they'd finally been separated and nearly one year since Hyde had had to come to terms with the fact that he had to find his own identity, his own purpose, his own life. And after all that, after _so long_ of keeping their secret — Hyde had to go and fuck that up for both of them.

His heart was pounding. He was shaking. "Don't tell him," Hyde begged, his voice broken, not even caring that he was pleading like some common beggar to motherfucking _Robert Lanyon._ "Please don't tell him. He's — he's got enough to worry about — he's worried enough and stressed enough and — and _broken_ enough. He shouldn't — shouldn't be worrying about — about someone like me."

"That doesn't answer my question!" Lanyon shrieked, and Hyde flinched, cowering. Lanyon hated him. _Jekyll_ should hate him, Jekyll should despise him and never want anything to do with him again and — and if he found out, _god_ if he found out he would _hate_ Hyde because Hyde would _ruin_ him. "What do you _mean_ Henry created you! Are you — oh God — are you his son or something?!"

Hyde shook his head frantically. He shuddered under Lanyon's confused stare. "No," he cried, "no, no, no, because if I was his son he would _want_ me, and if he was my father I would care about him and I _don't_ , I didn't, I tortured him, put him through Hell because I'm selfish and stupid and reckless and — and he should hate me. _I_ hate me. But he hates himself, too, and it's terrible, and he shouldn't because he's amazing and he's _whole_ , even without me, but without him—"

He curled up and wailed, the pathetic echo of his sobs overtaking the chaotic London afternoon, and Lanyon sat next to him. He looked — he looked concerned. And the look of concern _stung,_ made something deep inside Hyde twist with guilt and pain, because Lanyon shouldn't be worried about him. No one should be worried about him, he was nothing, he was cruel, he was vile and he didn’t _deserve_ Henry no matter how much he wanted him.

"Hyde. . . Hyde, you can't — you can't mean that," Lanyon whispered, a gentle hand on his shoulder, and it only burned more to hear the genuine concern in Lanyon's words. No wonder Jekyll actually gave a damn about Lanyon. He was good, he was, even if he was a repressed, conservative prick, too, and he and Jekyll were very similar because they both _did_ want to do _good_. Even Lanyon's stupid fucking respectability lessons were to make Jekyll happy, and make him more confident and open and successful, and Hyde — what had Hyde done?

"Henry should hate me," Hyde cried. "He should _despise_ me, I've done nothing good for him, not even when he gave me everything, not — not even for _creating me_. And I hate you but I can’t, I don’t want to, because you've always wanted to help Henry even if you do a _shit_ job at it because — because that's better than what I've done. I'm just a burden, just a — a mistake, and I'm everything that Henry _hates_ —"

" _Hyde_ ," Lanyon hissed, a great severity to his tone. "Henry can't possible hate you! He's put up with you this long."

"Because he's too fucking _good_ ," Hyde wailed, giving a great shudder, and Lanyon was inclined to agree. "He should hate me, kick me out, throw me into the streets but he _won't_ because he's too fucking _good_ for it. Fuck, he should hate you! You'd hate him! If you really knew us, if you — if you knew everything, you'd hate us! We're not _you,_ Lanyon, we're not gentlemen, we're dangerous and insane and _fucking_ berserk, and you hate that, you'd hate us, you'd hate Henry if he ever showed how mad and dangerous and wild he really is—"

Lanyon shrieked in indignation, "I would _not_!"

"You hate _me_!" Hyde howled. "You hate everything about me!"

"What does that even have to do with you?!" Lanyon demanded, confused and rather inclined to be irritated. Hyde was — was different, to how he usually acted. Either he was a destructive gremlin trying to burn down the Society, or a lovesick puppy draped all over Henry at all hours of the day, neither of which were good, but at least, both were preferable to whatever _this_ was "Why are you involved in _everything_ Henry does! Are you _anything_ at all without him?!"

"NO!" Hyde shrieked, breaking down, his knees buckling as he fell against the stairs. "No, no I'm not! I'm — I'm nothing without Henry! He's everything without me, and he's wonderful and beautiful and _fucking_ perfect and I'm not, I'm broken and missing everything that he is and I — I'm _not me_. He's whole. He's _pure._ He always has been. I'm not. I'm everything disgraceful about him. I'm everything he hates about himself and everything he hides and everything he _can't bear to be_. I — I'm nothing without Henry."

"What do you mean — Hyde, what do you mean you're everything he hates?" Lanyon asked, confused still but also cautious, now, because Hyde looked like he was trying to bash his head against the steps. "You're not Henry, Hyde, how would—"

"I _am_ ," Hyde sobbed, looking up and staring at Lanyon, his green eyes round and bitter and glowing with tears and — and no longer green. Lanyon shuddered and backed off, nearly falling onto the pavement. Those — those eyes. Soft, gentle, but piercing all the same, looking like rust and steel under the midnight sky. And he — he knew those eyes.

Henry's eyes.

_No._

"I am Henry," Hyde blubbered, now crying and choking on his cries, shuddering like a young child in the face of fear. "I — I'm — ev- everything he hates, and everything he — everything he c-couldn't be, I — I am, and I — I hate it, I want — I want to be like him — I want to be whole, and — and good, and k- kind and I — I want to love, I want to b-be l- l- loved and I want him to l-love _me_ but he won't, I don't — I don't deserve him and I—"

"How is that possible?" Lanyon asked, kneeling next to the crying man, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Hyde, how — how are _you_ Henry?"

Hyde barked out a dreadful laugh. "You're — you're f-forgetting who h-he is," he forced out between cries, "He's a m-mad scientist, t-too, you know. He — he _made_ me. Three years — three years ago — that d-damned p-potion — oh, _God_ that potion—!" He curled up into sobs again, eyes stinging, heart clenching tight in pain. He'd never — never told anyone. It was never an option. And now he had, and he'd told the man he hated _most_ besides himself, and Henry would be _furious_ with him.

Though still skeptical, Lanyon was undeniably curious. Three years — that was the time Henry had been extremely depressed to the point of self-negligence. He had been hopeless, senseless, with none of the gleam he often saw in — in _Hyde's_ eyes. And the sudden recovery — was that Hyde's doing? Had — had Hyde, the man he so hated, saved his best friend's life? "What did that potion do?"

"It hurt like a fucking bitch, that's what it did," Hyde grumbled, softy, his sobs subsiding with time. "But it — it made me. Out of everything that makes Henry good and kind and fucking _perfect_ , it made me. Gave a body to everything he hated about himself, but also everything he wanted to do and be, but couldn't. Not as Henry Jekyll. But as Hyde — no one cared. We could be as stupidly recklessly dangerous as we wanted and no one would give a _fuck_ , and I loved it, loved the freedom, the change and — and so did he. No one cared if we trashed a pub. No one cared who we slept around with. No one cared, and it was — it was amazing."

" _We_?" Lanyon asked, and Hyde shrugged.

"At — at first, we were in the same body, pretty much. We'd change appearance into each other, and it was easy, it was fun, it was _fucking_ awesome, but—" a great sob began to build in his throat again, and Hyde choked, hands shaking as he tried to wipe away the newly dripping tears, "— but I fucked up. I ruined it, for both of us, because I _hated_ this fucking high society life and all I wanted to do was fuck and drink and do _nothing_ and I — I ruined _him_."

"The fire," Lanyon whispered, his voice hollow.

"No," Hyde whispered, "not just that. Blackmailing him, tempting him, _destroying_ his self-esteem just so I could go out and do whatever the fuck I wanted. The fire — that was _his_ turn to bite back. He locked me in, and I released the fucking nightmares and made him go _mad_ , oh _God_ he was in so much pain, he was so distraught and I only made it _worse_."

"How — how are you two people, now, then?"

"Fuck if I know," Hyde grumbled. "I — I mellowed out, after the nightmares, because I — I could see them too, and _fuck,_ I was terrified, I'm not — I'm not untouchable I'm still fucking _terrified_ of everything and everything felt real and Jekyll wasn't even _trying_ to scare me, he was just trying to figure out who _he_ was, and now he knows but I'm _no one_ , not without him. Especially now. He took the potion and I was just — there. I don't know — we don't know, and I know he's trying to figure out how to get us back together or something but he — he should be trying to figure out how to get _rid_ of me, he should hate me, I — I hate me, I hate it — I hate everything about me."

"Hyde. . ." Lanyon shivered. How — how was he meant to react to that? Was there a right way? A wrong way?

"Hyde, I — I don't hate you," he said, instead, because Hyde seemed to be so hung up on it.

"Yeah, fucking right," Hyde barked, laughing like a madman with tears still spilling down his cheeks. "Don’t you fucking dare lie to me. I've known you for fifteen fucking years, asshole."

"I mean it, Hyde," Lanyon hissed, desperate all of a sudden, because if Hyde was Henry, well — he knew how self-destructive Henry could be. "I — I don't hate you, not at all. For God's sake, I — I wish I could be like you," he said, chuckling, looking away.

"Why?" Hyde demanded. "What could someone like you possibly want from me? I'm a violent asshole, a wanted arsonist, and most importantly I am one hell of a terrible fucking person. What part of that do you want?"

Lanyon gave him a small smile. "That," he said, motioning to Hyde. "Your honesty. Your freedom. You don't have to give a fuck what anyone thinks of you. You get to choose your own life. Your own beliefs, your own habits, nothing drilled into you from childhood to the point that no matter how you want to you just — you just can't break away. They're always there."

"What do _you_ mean?" Hyde asked, now confused himself. "You're a grown ass man, _Hastie_ , it wouldn't be too fucking hard to just go and do whatever you wanted."

Lanyon chuckled, sick and despairing. "Sure, for you and Henry, maybe," he lamented. "You were raised to find your own path. I wasn't. I was raised to be exactly like my father, and I fucking despise it but every time I try to break away — every time I try to be someone else, anything else — I feel like a fucking _failure_. I feel fucking disgusting, no matter how much I know that it's all fucking _bullshit_. Why — why do you think I haven't tried getting with Henry?"

"Because you're a goddamn coward," Hyde growled, rolling his eyes. "And because Henry would fuckin' _panic_ at the slightest hint of feelings and book it back to Scotland."

A barking laugh ripped out of Lanyon's throat. "Speaking from experience, aren't we, Mr. Hyde?"

"Fuck you."

"We'll see," Lanyon chuckled, wiping away a tear that was about to fall, staring at the darkening London sky. "And it's because — it's because it feels fucking terrible. I feel disgusted with myself whenever I think about it, about _us_. And I love him, I know I do, and _God_ what I wouldn't give for him to feel the same way, but whenever I think about telling him, about approaching him, about _kissing_ him and— and—"

Hyde raised an eyebrow. "And shagging him six ways to Sunday?"

Lanyon batted his arm, and Hyde cracked a reluctant grin. "I wouldn't phrase it that crudely, but yes, that. Whenever I think about — about it, about us, _god_ it makes me want to vomit. I feel disgusted, at myself, at him, at everything I've ever been taught but I can't — I can't escape. Hell and Heaven know I've tried, but — but I'm not strong enough for it. Not good enough. Not anything but the little spoiled Lanyon boy." He chuckled bitterly, wiping his eyes with his arm and looking away.

"Well," Hyde huffed, looking out at the street, feeling significantly less murder-y towards Lanyon. "Aren't we both shit at this."

"I'd drink to that," chuckled Lanyon, getting up and dusting himself off. "You'll have to tell me more about this potion business, though. I — I don't know yet what to make of it, and what to make of _you_ , but if you were the one who saved Henry's life then — then I owe this to you." He extended a hand, and though for a while Hyde stared at it as though Lanyon was handing him a mutilated rat, he eventually got to his feet and gave a dazzling grin. God, those smiles — what Lanyon wouldn't give to see them on _Henry_ , again. To make Henry smile like he did back in their university days.

"Well then, doctor, shall we go for a pint?" asked Hyde, and Lanyon rolled his eyes.

"We shall, doctor," said Lanyon, and off they went. Both still cautious of one another, but a little more understanding, and a little less likely to try and behead one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The. LATEST. UPDATE. HAS. ME. SCREAMING. BRING ME ALL THE JEKYON CONTENT!


End file.
